Five

On Monday morning, the local papers in the Triangle area of North Carolina made their initial reports about Kathleen Peterson’s death. She was the wife of Michael Peterson, who had run unsuccessfully for Durham’s city council earlier that year. Durham Police media spokesman, Major Dwight Pettiford, told the press that police were still looking into Mrs. Peterson’s death. Though the major wouldn’t confirm the extent of the investigation, the local news reported that the Durham PD mobile substation on Kent Street had about a dozen police cars parked outside it.

The details of Kathleen Peterson’s death would remain shrouded. Major Pettiford told reporters very little. He mentioned that Durham police were not sure whether anyone else was in the house with Michael and Kathleen during the early-morning hours of December 9, 2001. The police spokesman said they were waiting for a statement from Michael Peterson, who had not yet been interviewed because he was spending time with his family.

Regarding the extent of Kathleen Peterson’s injuries, the Durham police could not comment. They were waiting for an autopsy report. Mrs. Peterson’s body had been sent to the state medical examiner’s office in Chapel Hill, and the preliminary results were not available.

Maureen Berry, a dear friend and neighbor to the Peterson family, told a local reporter that she had been awakened by a fire truck and an ambulance at about 2:30 on Sunday morning. Ms. Berry had gone over to the house to talk to Michael and his son Todd, and she learned of the sad news from Mr. Peterson himself. He said that he had been sitting out by the pool, that Kathleen had gone upstairs to bed, that when he went inside, he found his wife lying near the back stairway.

Everyone who knew Kathleen was devastated by the news. Kathleen had not only been a loving wife, mother, and stepmother, she was one of those people who lived life to the fullest. She was an intelligent, extremely capable woman, a woman who was blessed with so many attributes. There wasn’t a soul who had a bad word to say about her. Kathleen was considered a giving human being, a model citizen.

Not only was she a top executive at Nortel Networks, Kathleen had a creative side, and was a patron of the arts who served on the board of the North Carolina Ballet and the Durham Arts Council. She was full of life. She and her husband threw annual parties for the American Dance Festival. Kathleen loved to dance.

The fact that Kathleen died in her lovely home was all the more upsetting to friends and family, who had attended Kathleen and Michael’s wedding in that grand old mansion, just a short five years prior to her death. People recalled Kathleen’s delight on that occasion. Throughout her wedding, she was glowing, dressed in formal white. People remembered that even as a lovely bride, Kathleen was helping out. Even in her wedding gown, the woman with stars in her eyes still acted as the proverbial hostess.

The same day that the news of Kathleen’s death hit the local papers, her children, siblings, and other family members, including her eighty-year-old mother, were making their way to Durham in utter shock and disbelief. There had been no funeral arrangements announced. There was still an investigation taking place in the Peterson house, so Michael hadn’t the time or energy to make any arrangements.

Michael was too distraught; he was concerned about trumped-up charges, and he had already placed calls to his brother Bill, an attorney, who was flying in from Reno, as well two other attorneys in the area. Michael was advised to sign a power of attorney over to his son Todd, and on that day, he did so. It was just a further precaution. He had no idea what to expect from the Durham officials.

Peterson knew one thing for sure: They had an ax to grind.

At 8:50 A.M., on that same Monday, December 10, 2001, Captain R. T. James arrived at Cedar Street to respond to demands being made by attorney Kerry Sutton. Captain James crossed the crime scene tape, which secured the outer perimeter of the property, and was looking for Sutton, who had been denied access to the scene by a patrol officer. Captain James was prepared to have a brief chat with Sutton about police securing the crime scene, but the young female attorney had disappeared before the captain arrived.

After receiving another call, Captain James returned back to the Cedar Street mansion, later entering the house at about 12:30 P.M. He took a tour of the residence, walking through all of the fourteen rooms, donning a pair of disposable boots to keep from disturbing any evidence in the house.

Mrs. Peterson’s body had been removed by the medical examiner, but there was still a lot of blood in the stairway where her body had been found. Captain James offered to be of assistance to the officers searching the residence. He touched nothing while he was inside the house. After about a half hour, he left.

While inside the residence, Captain James made a specific trip to the second floor, by way of the front spiral staircase. He went to take another look at the door and wall leading down the back stairway. He observed a few blue stains running down the back-stairway wall. They appeared to be remnants of luminol, an enhancement chemical that allows experts to see blood distribution, stains not visible to the naked eye.